


Do Not Disturb

by tea_or_die



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Bottom Dean Winchester, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Top Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-01 22:11:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20421494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_or_die/pseuds/tea_or_die
Summary: Dean Winchester, owner of Winchester Fine Auto Restoration, is in town for one night, the last night of his trip as he checks in on each branch of his chain of shops.Cas is Roman Enterprises CFO, and has been in meetings for days over a merger that should have taken a single 8 hour conference call.A surreptitious invitation at the hotel bar could help both men unwind.ABANDONED





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to Halestorm in the car, and "Do Not Disturb" came on. I couldn't get this out of my head afterwards.

Dean scans the bar, his green eyes briefly lighting on each of the patrons, wondering who else is also a guest at the adjoining hotel, and who is here for a hookup, illicit or otherwise. He sips slowly at his second tumbler of whiskey, discreetly making guesses. The couple at a table for four, wearing business casual attire, remnants of a shared plate, looking interested only in their phones, but not each other are likely here together, and staying at the hotel. The man is wearing a ring, but Dean can’t tell if the woman is. Behind them is a blonde, just past middle age, in a tight, crimson cocktail dress, not so subtly looking to be picked up. He’s about to find out if older women really are as good as he remembers, when Dean hears a voice down the bar that sends shivers down his spine, and has heat pooling low in his groin. 

“Manhattan, in a rocks glass, please.”

Looking to his right, Dean sees a tall, dark haired man in a well-tailored navy suit leaning against the bar. His tie, a lighter blue, is loosened and the top button of his white shirt is undone. A tan trench coat hangs over one arm. Dean suddenly feels very formal all buttoned and pressed in his black bespoke Versace suit, tie still knotted and clipped. He slowly reaches up to loosen the tie, and undo the top button, trying not to be obvious about it. His cuffs will have to wait, as he doesn’t want to risk losing the cufflinks his brother, Sam, bought him when he opened the fifth location of his car restoration business. 

Which is why he’s here, trying not to drool over the high cheekbones, defined jawline, and - _fuck_ \- absolutely gorgeous hands that are passing over cash for the drink of the man two seats down from him at the bar of a hotel in Portland, nearly 2000 miles from home. He reaches up to adjust his tie again, picturing those hands on his body, and his movement must catch the man’s attention, because he looks over, and all Dean can think for a moment is “_blue_”. It’s unfair that such a stunning man should also have eyes like an indigo sky, and Dean realizes a second too late that he must look like an idiot, as the man gives him a small, awkward smile, and turns away. As he does, a petite brunette woman walks up to the bar beside him, and he drapes an arm around her shoulders. Damn. Dean should have known a man that stunning was taken. 

Still… The more he thinks about it, the more the second key card in his wallet starts burning a hole in his pocket. The front desk had just given him two, even though he was staying alone. He’s dying to hear that voice again. Wants to know what it sounds like when he comes. Even if it’s awkward, he’s leaving on a plane in the morning and it’s a pretty safe bet he’ll never see these two ever again. He begs a pen off the bartender, and jots a quick note on the small envelope holding the key card. He finishes his whiskey in two quick swallows for some liquid courage, then gets up, mentally preparing himself for what he’s about to do. Three steps take him over to where the man, and his girlfriend are still chatting next to the bar. As he approaches, blue eyes turn to meet green. Dean, shaking only a little, raises his hand to the man’s left shoulder. 

“Nice suit”, he says, with a broad grin, as he slides his hand down, and slips the envelope into the man’s pocket. He pats it twice, to ensure that the hint is received. The blue eyes widen a bit, and pink lips part only slightly in shock, before Dean is turning and walking as calmly as he can to the exit of the bar. Once out of sight, he pauses with his hands on his knees and exhales a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, a nearly hysterical laugh slipping out before he can stop it. Straightening up, he hurries to the elevator bank, pressing the ‘up’ button, and hoping one arrives before he decides to leave his expensive clothes and shoes behind, and just get in his rental car and drive to another hotel to hide. 

Once Dean is back in his room, the reality of what he’s done comes crashing down on him, and he pours himself a drink from the minibar, tossing it back in one go, before pouring a second. He sits on the neatly made bed, and stares at the door, not sure if he wants to hear a knock, or not. 


	2. Chapter 2

Cas has been in and out of meetings in the hotel’s conference room all day, and just wants a moment to relax, and get a drink before he and his assistant, Meg, go over his schedule for tomorrow. As he hands over the cash for his Manhattan - in a rocks glass, the traditional martini glasses feel too fragile in his large hands - movement to his left catches his eye. He glances over, and eyes as green as hidden rainforests are looking at him, in the face of the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. Realizing he’s staring, he gives an awkward smile, and looks away. He’s spent enough time in the business world to know that a tailored suit, good grooming, and sharp accessories give no indication of sexuality. The handsome stranger probably wouldn’t take well to an offer of company. 

Before he can spend too much time wallowing in self pity, Meg saunters up to Cas’ side, gently bumping her hip into his, and he slings an arm over her shoulder, taking comfort in her steady calm. She’s been with him for the last 10 years, as he went from Lead Accountant, to CFO at Roman Enterprises. He’s lucky to have been able to insist his PA come with him with each promotion, and he tries not to ever take her for granted. Meg steals a sip of his drink as Cas idly wonders about booking some vacation time for the both of them once this merger is complete. Heaven knows they both deserve it. 

He’s just voiced this to Meg when she gently nudges his left arm. He turns, and looks directly into the face of the green-eyed stranger. Up close, he can see his generous lips are a perfect cupid’s bow. Freckles dust his cheeks, nose, even his eyelids. There are flecks of bronze and gold in his irises, treasures in deep jade wells. His light brown hair is artfully mussed, and Cas desperately wants to make it messier. A warm hand lands on his shoulder, green eyes light up, and perfect teeth are revealed in a smile that looks like it’s full of secrets. 

“Nice suit” green eyes says, in a delicious baritone, sliding his hand down to Cas’ chest, patting his suits breast pocket twice. Cas can feel that he slid something in it, and is now dying of curiosity to know what. He’s unable to ask, though, as the man simply turns, and walks out of the bar, leaving Cas wide-eyed and slightly breathless from the brief interaction. It’s only Meg’s low chuckle that brings him back to reality, giving him enough brainpower to reach into his pocket and pull out a small envelope. It’s the kind they give out the hotel key cards in, which it appears to contain, and has writing on the outside. 

_ Top Floor. PH2 _

_ Code 1334 for elevator _

_ Bring your girlfriend too if you’d like _

Cas’ mouth has gone dry, and the noise of the bar around him has been replaced by the sound of his own heart beating in his ears. He's not sure what his face is doing, but it must be interesting, as Meg gently closes his mouth with two fingers on his chin, and slides the envelope from his hand. One eyebrow goes up as she reads the writing on it. 

“Are we taking him up on his offer, Clarence?” she teases. 

“_ We _ aren’t doing anything” he frowns back. “And I honestly don’t know if I’m going to go up or not. He could be a murderer, or trying to rob me, or…”

“Or he could just want to see those perky buns without a stuffy suit jacket covering them.” She’s definitely smirking now. “Go have some fun. I know where you’re supposed to be if you don’t show up in the morning”. 

“I really shouldn’t, ” Cas sighs, eyes lingering on the doorway to the hotel hallway, as if the solution to his dilemma is going to walk through it at any moment.”Besides, I -”  


“Need to get over April, and have a _ridiculously_ hot guy waiting - where was it? Oh yeah - _the_ _penthouse_ for you?” Meg queries “I know. So Get. Up. There.” Each word is punctuated with an increasingly sharp jab to his ribs.   
  
Cas rolls his eyes, waving the bartender over so he can order a shot of whiskey, which he tips back, barely letting it touch his tongue before he swallows against the burn. Low heat flushes below the skin on his neck as he checks himself quickly for stains or creases on his clothes. He knows he doesn’t hold a candle to custom Versace, but he thinks he looks good enough. Vowing to himself to make time to spend his hard-earned money on a better suit when this merger is done, he slides through the now crowded bar, out into the cooler air directly off the hotel lobby. A small atrium joins the lobby, the bar, and a waiting area for the 6 elevators, a bank of 3 on each side. Directly over him is a glass dome, a skylight through which he can currently see only one bright star blinking through the noise pollution of the surrounding city. With a deep breath, he lies to himself that he’s calm, and presses the up arrow to call an elevator. One appears within seconds. A surprisingly steady hand enters the code into the keypad on the wall, and Cas is smoothly being whisked upwards. When the elevator doors part on the top floor, he’s in a small foyer with two double doors on each side. There’s an ornate 1 on the left set of doors, and an ornate 2 on the right. He turns to the right, gives one last, useless brush of his lapels, and knocks.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really didn't plan to go so long without updating this. My sincerest apologies. 
> 
> I'm dealing with some ridiculous migraines right now, and out of the last 34 days, I have had exactly 6 days where I haven't had a migraine happen at some point in the day. It doesn't make for a very productive writing environment. 
> 
> To tide you over, this is some of what I had written already, before we get into the *ahem* meaty bits.

Dean switches between pacing the room, and sitting on the edge of the bed. He decides more whiskey is a bad idea if he actually wants to get it up tonight.  _ Maybe that’s what he should do. _ Drink too much, apologize, get his key back, and get an earlier flight out.  _ Maybe not. _ Thinking back, Dean realizes it’s been over a year since his last semi-serious relationship, and almost 6 months since he last even had a hookup. Add in the two weeks he’s just spent flying around the country to check in on his eight vintage car shops, and he deserves to reward himself. No one deserves hurtling through the sky in a tin can without a reward. Going back on his earlier decision, he grabs the last mini bottle of whiskey from the bar fridge, but decides to take it easy. This time, he splashes only some of it into the glass, topping it off with ginger ale. He’s just taken a sip, and settle into the chair at the desk, when a knock sounds at the door. 

Despite drinking very little before coming up, a calm sort of courage has come over Cas. He reflects on Meg’s words - yes, he needs to move on after April, but he’s also doing this for himself. He’s been in meetings for days, and if something doesn’t give, he’s liable to bite someone’s head off. A night of anonymous fun should be just what he needs to get through the rest of this merger with everyone in one piece. His thoughts end there, as his knock is answered and the man from the bar opens the door, looking somewhat perplexed. 

“I gave you a key.” It’s somehow both a question and a statement. 

“Yes, I...I didn’t want to just barge in, I…”

“Your girlfriend just not interested, or…?” a cheeky eyebrow pops up over one of those entrancing green eyes, a small smirk playing across his lips. 

“No, uh, I mean… not my girlfriend.” Cas replies, feeling as if he’s been struck dumb now that they’re actually interacting. 

“Good.” is the only reply before a hand snakes out and wraps around his tie, pulling him into the room. He’s nearly nose to nose with the man for a split second before his vision is suddenly clear. He turns his head to see him place the “do not disturb” sign on the door, before closing it and bolting the lock. A moment later a hand is on his hip while the other fishes his cell phone out of his pants pocket. Cas regrets not hiding his notifications as the other man reads out “Meg says ‘Have fun  _ Cas _ ’” but all irritation is gone at having his private message read is dissolved as Cas hears his own name slide past those sinful lips. He sees his phone being turned off, and alarms go off for about 0.2 seconds before he realizes that those same lips are next to his face, as his companion leans past to set the phone on the desk. They brush against his ear, sending a pleasant shiver down his spine as “I’m Dean” is whispered in his ear. Dean pulls back slightly, winking as he does so. 

“Why don’t we get better aquainted, Cas?” Dean looks to Cas for consent, one hand still on his hip, the other now tugging Cas’ tie even looser. 

“Yes” is the only word in Cas’ vocabulary at the moment. His hands make short work of the single button on Dean’s blazer. He can feel the heat of Dean’s gaze on him as he runs his hands over the rich fabric of the perfectly tailored waistcoat on the perfectly made man in front of him. His fingers continue upwards, reaching their destination and gripping the hair at the nape of Dean’s neck just enough to bring him closer.


End file.
